I had sent away the milliner after having bought the shawl, when Possano took it upon himself to remonstrate with me in the matter of the cook.
“I engaged the man by your orders,” said he, “for the whole time you stayed at Genoa, at four francs a day, with board and lodging.”
“Where is my letter?”
“Here it is: ‘Get me a good cook; I will keep him while I stay in Genoa.’”
“Perhaps you did not remark the expression, a good cook? Well, this fellow is a very bad cook; and, at all events, I am the best judge whether he is good or bad.”
“You are wrong, for the man will prove his skill. He will cite you in the law courts, and win his case.”
“Then you have made a formal agreement with him?”
“Certainly; and your letter authorized me to do so.”
“Tell him to come up; I want to speak to him.”
While Possano was downstairs I told Clairmont to go and fetch me an advocate. The cook came upstairs, I read the agreement, and I saw that it was worded in such a manner that I should be in the wrong legally; but I did not change my mind for all that.